


Against All Logic

by s_millss



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ellis Grey's A+ Parenting, Found Family, Multi, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26355106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_millss/pseuds/s_millss
Summary: The baby you have is the baby you were destined to have. At twenty-eight, Meredith Grey meets her destiny. Or the one in which life, falls on the side of the Dirty Mistresses.
Relationships: Meredith Grey & Alex Karev & Cristina Yang, Meredith Grey & Callie Torres, Meredith Grey & Jackson Avery, Meredith Grey/Mark Sloan, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 412





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Any recognisable dialogue belongs exclusively to the American Broadcasting Company television show created by Shonda Rhimes; Grey’s Anatomy

* * *

**Chapter I** _– Dirty Mistresses_

* * *

_"We look for comfort where we can find it."_

"This seat taken?"

She glances to her right – _McSteamy_ grins. She shrugs, "I guess not."

"Double Scotch, single malt." He takes the open seat. "You look sad."

She snorts into her vodka soda. "I just saw my Father for the first time in twenty years."

"How'd that go?" McSteamy asks offhandedly, fiddling with the edge of the coaster Joe's placed his drink on. "Thanks Joe."

"Could've gone better." She mutters, and turns to him, resting her elbow on the bar. "What are you still doing here?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "I'm… hoping Addison shows up."

Meredith blinks. "You're still in love with her."

McSteamy glares, offended by her shock. "You're still in love with _him_."

"She won't show."

"No?"

"No." She tells him succinctly, turning back to her drink. "He's… not the kind of guy you leave if you can help it."

He sighs. "What if you're wrong? What if, just this once, life comes down on the side of the dirty mistresses?"

Meredith offers him a sad smile. "Hey Joe? Two tequila, please."

"You got it!"

McSteamy eyes her. "That's your solution? Tequila?"

She knocks back the first, foregoing the salt and lemon sat beside it. "Life, does not fall of the side of the dirty mistresses, on account of us being dirty, marriage destroying, mistresses." She gestures to the shot. "Now drink your Tequila."

He tips the shot back, hissing as he swallows. "For the record, you didn't destroy a marriage Grey, I believe that honour was mine."

Meredith snorts, and gestures for a refill of both glasses. "Wow, all my sins, absolved," She snaps her fingers, "just like that."

"Cute." McSteamy utters, accepting the second shot. "I understand why you do. Still love him, I mean."

She slams the drink back. "Is that so?"

"He's easy to love. Always has been." Joe raises the bottle and McSteamy beckons him over. "Leave the bottle."

"And Addison? Is she easy to love?"

McSteamy fills their glasses. "Yes." He answers immediately. "No." He amends, shaking his head as he drains his shot glass.

"Why'd you do it?" She asks, spinning on the barstool to face him. "Why'd you destroy a marriage?"

He snorts. "Not much of marriage left to destroy after a decade."

Meredith raises an eyebrow.

"She was… sad." McSteamy sighs and turns to face her. "She was sad, and I was in love with her." He sighs again, and fills their glasses – their fourth, Meredith thinks. "He… he was distant, cold, _always_ working and I was… there. I wanted to make her happy, if only for a while."

"It was more than one night, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

He downs his shot. "How long were you with Derek?"

She downs her own. "Couple of months."

McSteamy refills the glasses and clinks them together once Meredith's taken her own. "Couple of months."

"Do you think she–"

"Loved me? I thought…" Their glasses are empty again and something dark crosses his pretty face. "But… no. I don't think she loved me."

Meredith takes the bottle. "He didn't love me either." She states, completely sure of herself as she pours them another. "The idea of me? Sure. But _me_?" She downs it in a single gulp. "I don't think he even knows _me_."

"He likes bright and shiny." McSteamy replies morosely and nudges his empty glass toward her. "Addison was bright and shiny." She fills his glass. "You… don't strike me as either." He leans closer, and Meredith finds herself mirroring him.

"I could say the same about you."

His wicked grin is infectious as he knocks back the shot and lays a heavy hand on her thigh. "Dirty, dirty mistresses."

"Not a mistress." She tells him matter-of-factly.

"Well," McSteamy smirks, "not on purpose."

Meredith concedes the fact and leans closer, meeting his eyes and knocking their shot glasses together. "Maybe tonight, life comes down on the side of those who drink Tequila."

"Hey Joe? We'll take another bottle." He calls and she watches his thumb trace circles on her thigh – she'd watched these hands work earlier, suturing his own cheek, such talented nimble fingers. She meets his gaze – and wonders what they'd feel like on bare skin. His eyes darken, and she makes her choice.

"To go." She tells Joe, who nods and slips the brand-new bottle into a brown paper bag. Meredith turns back to McSteamy. "You're buying."

He settles their tab without complaint – his arm is heavy across her shoulders and she leans into him as the night air hits in a chilling rush of biting cold. It's heady, the feeling brought by the fingertips caressing the top of her breast, by the teasing lilt of his voice as he whispers promises of what's to come in her ears. He's staying at the Archfield, in a suite on one of the upper floors – McSteamy doesn't wait for the elevator doors to close and she meets him in the middle, capturing his lips with a kiss that tastes like Tequila. She grins against his mouth as he lifts her, pleasure shooting through her as her back hits the wall – he teases a sensitive spot on her neck with a scrape of teeth and a suckling of skin and she gasps, delighting in the sensation.

"Are you?"

"Implanon." She tells him breathlessly, grazing her nails through the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Watch the nails Grey, you've done me enough damage today."

She laughs, revelling in his throaty groan as she ignores his snipe and repeats her action. "Can't blame me for that Sloan."

He chuckles against the shell of her ear, fumbling with the key-card behind her back. "Oh, I think I will." He grins, and kicks the door closed behind them, crossing the suite in a few long strides to lay her on the plush mattress. She pulls his shirt over his head and his long fingers dip beneath her jeans as he kisses a line down her chest. "But I'm sure you can make it up to me."

And so she does.

* * *

"Bambi looks like someone's shot his mother, why?"

Meredith raises an eyebrow in the mirror as she ties her hair up. "How would I know?"

Cristina bestows her with a _look_ that makes it clear she's questioning her intelligence. "Uh, you live with him." Cristina ducks between the sink and the mirror, a smirk forming on her lips. " _You_ didn't go home last night."

Meredith shrugs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dish." Cristina demands gleefully.

George slams his locker door shut forcefully. "We have rounds and not one person wants to hear about Meredith's latest conquest from Joe's."

"Actually," Alex looks up from where he's nestled in Izzie's shoulder, "I have a running bet with Yang. Tell me Mer, was it McDreamy or Mark Sloan." He turns back to Izzie, brows furrowing. "Did I just call that dude McDreamy?"

Izzie pats his head, giggling. "You did."

"You are ruining my life."

"Did you seriously bet on my sex life?" Meredith asks and immediately shakes her head, the locker room door shutting behind her. "Wait, no, don't answer that, of course you did."

"I have fifty on McDreamy." Cristina states, tucking her stethoscope into her coat pocket.

Meredith glances at Cristina, falling into step behind Alex as they file into the first patient's room. It should have been a solid bet in Cristina's favour and yet, the money will be going straight onto Alex's tab at Joe's. She wonders if she should justify it, the dirty, dirty hotel room sex with McSteamy. She doesn't need to, not really, she's single, he's single, it's uncomplicated. Except, it _is_ complicated, because he's the man who ruined her ex-boyfriend's marriage and she's the dirty whore who slept with a married man. Meredith shifts her weight, listening with half an ear as Burke explains his process – she doesn't _want_ to justify it, she realises. She doesn't _want_ to apologise for taking what Mark Sloan could give her.

"You alright?"

Meredith blinks – she's the last person in the room and Alex is leaning against the doorframe, eyeing her with an expression that's almost concerned.

"Yep. Fine. I'm fine."

"Right." He says, unconvinced. "Shepherd's next, you gonna get it together?"

Meredith pushes past him. "I have it together."

And to an extent, she does, because here, it's medicine, it's _surgery_ , it's what she's good at… it's where she shines brightest. _I have it together_ , Meredith tells herself, when Bailey assigns her to Derek's service. _I have it together,_ she reminds herself, when she looks him in the eye and _shines_ easily answering each question he poses regarding Shawn's case. _I have it together_ , Meredith repeats, over and over and over, until she realises the words are mostly hollow, and she doesn't have it together at all.

"What are you doing?"

Alex looks down at her curiously as she sits, curled up in a plush chair in the family room outside the Paediatrics surgical wing. "Hiding."

He sits across from her. "Alright, so you slept with O'Malley, get over it already."

Meredith snorts a startled laugh. "What? No! Where the hell did you get that idea from?"

Alex shrugs. "He's been weird all day and so have you. I put two and two together."

"And got five!"

"So who was it actually?" Alex asks gruffly.

Meredith raises an eyebrow.

"When your life is sucking, you get drunk and sleep with inappropriate men. It's your thing. Whatever." He shrugs. "I find it charming."

"You sleep with inappropriate women when you're sober."

Alex scowls. " _One_ inappropriate woman and Izzie forgave me for that. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

"Izzie hasn't forgiven you."

"Yes, she has. We're together."

"No, you're not. Izzie may be sleeping with you, but she'll never see you the way she saw you before you slept with Olivia."

"Why are you trying to piss me off?"

Meredith sighs. "I'm not. I'm sorry." She drops her chin onto her knee. "I– I had sex with Mark Sloan."

"What?" George interrupts loudly, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. "Wow… when I'm wrong about someone…"

"George?" Meredith stands and he backs away quickly, heading toward the stairwell. "What–"

"I am really wrong!" He shouts, fuming.

Alex directs a scowl in George's direction, "Dude chill! It's got nothing to do with you."

George skids to a stop, one hand on the stairwell door. "You chill! You chill! I'm not...I'm not gonna chill!"

Meredith catches up to him and makes a grab for his shoulder – he shakes her off harshly. "George! I–"

"What's going on?" Izzie asks loudly.

Alex glares. "The foetus is freaking out, over shit that's none of his business."

"I can see that." She states plainly, reaching for George. "Why are you freaking out?"

George pulls his arm from Izzie's grip and pushes the stairwell door open. "You think that someone is your friend, you know."

Cristina eyes the four of them critically as she approaches from the opposite end of the corridor. "What's going on?"

"Baby boy is freaking out."

"She can see that!"

"I can see that!"

Izzie throws up her arms. "Why is he freaking out?"

Meredith shrugs and follows George into the stairwell. "George, I don't understand why you're so angry!"

"I don't wanna talk! Not to you!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm in love with you!"

Meredith falters, steadying herself on the handrail. "What?" She asks dumbly and hears Cristina stopping on the stairs behind her.

George stops on the flight below, looking back up at her with an expression that makes her stomach churn. "Since day one, I have been in love with you Meredith, and I know that I'm not a world-renowned surgeon, I know I'm not what you've gone for in the past, but I would never hurt you, I would never leave… but you… you didn't even notice." He shakes his head, "Instead, you had sex with Mark freaking Sloan!"

"You had sex!" Izzie yelps.

"With _McSteamy_?" Cristina crows, impressed.

"Why him?" George asks and Meredith can't explain it – kinship, understanding, revenge – sex with Mark Sloan, was… necessary.

"George… you don't…"

"Damn it!" He shouts and turns – it happens in slow motion and she lurches forward against the railing, shocked, as George tumbles down the stairs and lands heavily on his shoulder.

Izzie screams and Alex laughs and Meredith… freezes. She looks to Cristina first – how hadn't she noticed? How wrapped up in Derek Shepherd was she that she didn't notice that George, her friend, her housemate, her _family_ … was in love with her. In a daze, she watches as Izzie and Cristina pull him off the floor – guilt swells, and she sinks onto the bed beside him in the examination room. She can hear Izzie shouting at Cristina and Alex outside, about wrongs dealt and which side she'll fall on should it come to picking them. It doesn't bother her that Izzie's loyalty is so firmly entrenched in George's back pocket – why should she, when she's got Cristina and Alex in hers.

"I don't feel the same way." Meredith tells him bluntly and feels George crumple all over again. "But I do love you George, you are my family and I love you. I'm… I'm just not in love with you and I'm sorry."

"George O'Malley?"

"Yes? Uh hi."

The Ortho resident smiles, " _Doctor_ George O'Malley. You're the heart in the elevator guy!"

"Yeah," George winces, uncomfortable. "That's me."

"That was amazing." She gushes, and Meredith grins.

"It really was, wasn't it?"

The Ortho resident's smile dims. "You must be the girlfriend–"

"No!" The mortified exclamation comes in unison, and Meredith winces as George treats her with another wounded stare.

"No." George repeats, softer, something like an apology colouring his tone. "No, we're not, we're not together. Meredith is… is family."

The pretty resident smiles brightly and Meredith feels something settle – it's not fixed, but she's certain it's not broken. "Oh! Great! Uh, I mean, sorry, I haven't introduced myself, I'm Doctor Torres."

Meredith accepts Torres's hand, shaking it firmly. "It's nice to meet you Doctor Torres, I should…" She glances between them, a soft grin forming on her lips. "I'll see you at home, George."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you at home."

* * *

She makes an attempt at cooking.

It's burnt black on the bottom and too charred on top but George smiles as he sits at the counter where her Dad used to pour her cereal and manages to choke down a bite.

"Is… is this mac and cheese?" Meredith nods, and George grimaces. "It's… good?"

"Really?"

George's expression twists and he stumbles off the stool and gags over the trashcan. "No, definitely not, that's, that's not even food."

She grimaces and holds up a pile of take-out menus. "Thai, Indian or Chinese?"

"Indian." George decides, and reaches for the menu. "I'm sorry." He blurts, closing his hard around hers. "I… you didn't deserve any of what happened today. You… you don't owe me anything. You don't need to cook apology mac and cheese or make it up to me because if anything I should be making it up to you." He squeezes her hand and offers her a sad smile. "You're not in love with me and that's okay because we're family… and that's enough."

Meredith squeezes his hand. "Okay." She tells him and slips onto the seat beside him. "We should get extra cheesy garlic naan." He raises an eyebrow. "Last time Izzie ate mine."

George snorts, and does just that.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Chapter II** _– Oh, Baby Baby_

* * *

Derek wants to be friends. 

Friends, who talk and tell each other stuff and walk the dog she gave him because her roommates decided they no longer liked it. She can’t escape him – she’s been on his Service for weeks now, uncomfortable and awkward and _stuck_ because they’re the Rosemary’s babies of interns and Bailey’s already come back a month early from maternity leave. So she sucks it up, pulls a fork from her patient’s neck, informs them of the Double Barrel Bypass that will undoubtedly save the wife’s life, and tries to corner Bailey in-between organising the O.R. 

She flops into a seat beside Cristina in the Cafeteria and Meredith seriously considers trading actual _Neurosurgery_ for _babysittin_ _g_ – what does it say about her apparent lack of… _love_ for the field she’s almost certain she’ll be specialising in, that she’d rather calm Bailey’s screaming infant then spend hours learning from one of the most renowned surgeons in the country? 

Meredith spears half a cherry tomato on her fork, and sighs. “Try holding him on his belly.” 

Frazzled, Cristina adjusts the infant until he’s laying comfortably on her forearm – Tuck quiets, and Cristina eyes her like Meredith’s handed her a thousand cardio compromised patients on a silver platter. “ _Thank you_.” 

“How did you–” 

“Read it.” Meredith answers around a mouthful of lettuce. 

“Medical journal?” 

She snorts. “Magazine.” 

Cristina nods and Tuck sniffles. “No, no, no do not start crying on me again, Meredith,” She holds out baby Tuck and Meredith raises an eyebrow. “Take him, please I beg you, I’m losing my mind.” 

“My patient’s going into surgery in half hour.” 

“Please, I’ll do anything, I _need_ to cut, I’m a _Surgeon_ not a babysitter! This is punishment, okay, punishment for not wanting Burke’s baby.” 

“Cristina. Bailey didn’t... That wasn’t–” 

“I _know_ , that’s not what Bailey meant, and I _know_ it wasn’t my fault, Meredith, I _know_.” She seems to sag, adjusting Tuck in an attempt to soothe him once more. “But... I didn’t want it.” 

“Cristina…” 

“I was… the foetus wasn’t viable, and I was _glad_. Meredith I– I am not capable of loving a child… as much as I love surgery. I, I want to become the youngest female Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery in the country. I want to win a Harper Avery Award. I want to be _Cristina Yang_ , Cardio God _._ ” She rocks Tuck gently and Meredith wishes that Ellis had Cristina’s resolve. “A baby… wouldn’t be enough.” 

“Okay.” Meredith nods, and rests her head on Cristina’s shoulder. “Okay.” 

* * *

Addison gives her juju, twice. 

Meredith’s not truly superstitious, but she’s lost two patients today and she’s craving chocolate something shocking – it’s a kind gesture and Meredith thinks it’s more than she deserves because Addison doesn’t know that the dirty mistress has now slept with both her husband _and_ lover. They’re not friends and perhaps there’s too much water under the bridge for them to ever _be_ friends but she accepts the cocoa in the spirit that it’s offered – to ward against the bad juju. 

Because _God_ does, she need it.

* * *

She has a sister. 

Two, sisters actually – Molly, who’s bright and shiny and very, very pregnant and Lexie who’s Harvard Medical School clever and the apple of their Father’s eye. It makes her knees weak, because Molly’s only six years her junior, with a sister that’s older still – she was five, when Ellis kicked Thatcher to the curb and dragged her across the country, she was _five_ when her Father most likely had his first replacement daughter. 

“I need some bones to break!” 

“What?” Callie asks and Izzie looks at her like she’s insane and maybe she is, because she has _two_ sisters, two, sisters, who don’t even know that she exists. 

“Some bones to break, something to smash, can you help me with that please!” 

“Um…” Callie pauses, searching for a solution. “You can clean up that cast crap if you want.” 

“Is she freaking out?” 

“No. Uh-uh. She's fine. She’s… great.” Izzie’s denial comes quickly and Meredith all at once wants to smack her because she’s not fine and she’s certainly not any form of great and the eternal optimism is grating on her last nerve. 

“Izzie, get out.” 

“What?” 

“Get. Out!” Meredith growls, hitting the cast with enough force that it finally splits. “You’re too bright and shiny and you need to get. Out!” 

“You can’t–” 

Callie glances between the two and makes a decision. “No, but I can, Stevens get out.” 

“But–” 

“Out!” 

Meredith hears the door slam and she takes a breath, eyeing the cast that’s now dust. The hammer drops into the pile with a loud thud as her grip falls limp. “He… he cried… when he walked her down the _aisle_ . My… _Father_ cried, when he walked my twenty-two-year-old sister down the aisle.” 

“You have a sister?” 

“Two. I have _two_ … half-sisters.” She grips the table tightly, suddenly short of breath. “ And they… they got a _Father_ … who’s proud of them, who _cries_ when his youngest daughter gets married, who gives her the… the ring that was our Grandmother’s and, and all I got was… was, _cereal_ and a Mother who didn’t want me. ” Meredith meets Callie’s cautiously concerned gaze and offers a weak smile. “ And, and _M_ _olly_ _…_ Molly’s pregnant… I have two sisters and, and a _niece_? That’s why she’s here, her baby has a congenital diaphragmatic hernia.” 

“Doctor Montgomery-Shepherd is the best in her field.” Callie says and Meredith knows it’s supposed to be comforting, but instead nausea swells and she’s retching over the nearby sink. “You’re okay.” Callie tells her softly as she pulls her hair back over her shoulders. “You’re okay.” Callie repeats, rubbing soothing circles on her back until her stomach is empty and her knees give way. 

Meredith rests her elbows on her knees and buries her fingers in her hair because it’s been almost nine and a half weeks and it shouldn’t make so much sense, but it does and she’s all together terrified. “I’m late.” 

Callie sighs, and sinks onto the floor beside her. “You need to take a test.” 

“I know.”

* * *

Meredith’s already half-way across town before it registers that she’s on her way to Mercy West. 

It feels like somewhat of a regression, running, instead of weathering the storm an ultrasound at Seattle Grace would have brewed – she’ll claim it as self-preservation, a desperate aching need for whatever this turns out to be, to remain a secret for just a little longer. Mercy West is smaller, less convoluted and Meredith thinks, easier to navigate as she drops into a seat in the patient lounge on the surgical floor. It was her third option, after Mass Gen and only really considered on the recommendation of one person. 

A person, who picks up on the first ring. “ _I_ _don’t hear from you for months, and you have the audacity to ring me at six in the morning.”_

Meredith covers her mouth, withholding a sob because it’s all so overwhelming as she clutches the phone to her ear. “Where are you?” 

“ _W_ _here am I? Where are you?”_

“Patient lounge, surgical floor.” The dial tone beeps in her ear – and he comes barreling through the double doors of the surgical suite, mobile still clutched in his hand. It reminds her starkly of their first lecture at Dartmouth as she watches him crane his neck to find her, rather than an empty seat in a full lecture hall. Except now, she doesn’t snort as he drops into the only empty seat beside her and pours Redbull into his coffee, instead she stumbles to her feet and reaches for him like a drowning man would for a life raft. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.” Meredith apologises and the words tumble out in something like a sob. 

He sets her down, hands grasping her elbows tightly. “Hey, _hey_ , what’s this?” He swipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb and offers a grin that fails to make her smile. “Meredith Grey, are you crying over little old me?” 

Meredith hiccups a laugh and shakes her head. “I need your help Jax, I…” She grips his forearms, unsteady as she looks up at him. “I fucked up.” 

“Mer, what’s going on?” 

“I need you to give me an ultrasound.” 

He frowns. “Meredith, tell me what’s going on.” 

“I think I’m pregnant.” Meredith swallows a sob – two lines that shouldn’t have appeared on the stick because she’s careful and she’s got three years' worth of contraception in her left arm. “Oh _God,_ I’m pregnant. I am pregnant.” Her hands shake and she stutters a breath. “I’m _pregnant_ , nine months into my intern year. Jackson, I’m–” 

“Pregnant.” Jackson finishes, shocked. “You’re pregnant. _Holy shit_ _._ Wait, Meredith, who’s the Father?” 

She snorts a laugh that quickly turns hysterical. “It’s,” Meredith laughs harder, gripping Jackson’s arm as she clutches at her stomach with the other. “It’s Mark Sloan. Mark Sloan who ruined his best friend’s marriage by fucking his very hot wife and now,” She wheezes, short of breath as she continues to laugh, “Now, he’s gotten the slutty intern _pregnant_.” 

“Mark Sloan?” Jackson asks loudly and winces, realising they’ve got an audience of waiting family members – he leads her down the corridor towards OBGYN. “Renowned New York Plastic Surgeon, Mark Sloan? When did you get the time to go to New York!” 

“He was in Seattle.” She states, somewhat calming down as they walk. “He followed Addison to Seattle to win her back, but she wanted Derek. Derek who I was dating, Derek who had a _wife_ that I didn’t know about until she turned up in _Seattle_.” 

Jackson stops, alarmed. “Sorry, did you say wife?” 

“Yes.” 

“Right and Sloan was…” 

“Dating Addison, in the same two months I was dating Derek.” Meredith explains, as she follows him into an examination room – his pager beeps and relief spreads across his pretty features. “Do you need to–” 

Jackson shakes his head. “Nah, and you and Sloan?” 

“One-night stand.” Meredith grimaces. “And potentially a lifetime of further interaction.” 

He snorts. “You know I’ve never done an ultrasound, right?” 

She lets her head fall back against the examination chair. “Seriously?” 

He sits down beside her. “Seriously. I paged a friend,” Jackson smiles and takes her hand. “But I’ll hold your hand.” 

“Hi! My Name is April – uh, sorry, Doctor Kepner, and I will be completing your ultrasound today.” 

“Perky.” Meredith comments quietly and Jackson grins into her hand. 

“Very.” He responds in a whisper. “Kep, chill. Mer’s an intern at Seattle Grace.” 

“Oh!” Kepner smiles brightly. “What’s it like? Seattle Grace was my second choice, but I matched with Mercy West first and, well.” She laughs, gesturing a little wildly. It’s a sweet sound that oddly enough, sets Meredith at ease. “Smaller program, more room to figure out what specialty I’ll go into. Right now, I’m thinking something with set hours, so I can raise kids. Could you raise your shirt please?” Kepner asks and Meredith nods, tucking her shirt up below her bra-line. “I want two boys and a girl, what are you hoping for?” 

Meredith blinks and glances at Jackson, startled by the question. “Oh, I’m… I’m not sure.” 

Kepner nods, seemingly sated by Meredith’s non-answer. “Do you have any questions before we begin?” 

“I have an implanon implant in my arm – the test was probably a false positive, right?” 

“Oh, well, the likelihood of falling pregnant while on the birth control implant is less than one out of one hundred and a false positive pregnancy test occurs if there is blood or protein in the urine, you’re not on any fertility medications? No underlying Medical issues?” Meredith shakes her head and Kepner nods. “Okay, well, we can order a blood test if you like, or we can go ahead with the ultrasound.” 

“Ultrasound.” Meredith dimly hears Jackson decide through the thunder in her ears. 

“Now, the gel will be a little cold,” Kepner smiles, “but it will all be worth it when you hear your little one’s heartbeat.” 

“Stop!” It’s wrenched from her mouth by panic as she uses her grip on Jackson to curl away from Kepner and the transducer. She shakes her head, pulling Jackson closer as she babbles. “I can’t do this, if I do this, it’s real, if I hear a heartbeat, that’s it, I have a child, I’m a mother.” 

“Meredith–” 

“No, no! I can’t do this, I’ll be a terrible mother, Ellis was a terrible Mother and I’ll be just like her, what if I’m just–” 

“Meredith, stop it! Kep, can you give us a minute?” Meredith hears the door open and shut and she thinks she’s hyperventilating. “Hey, _hey_ , breathe Mer. That’s it, in and out okay, in and out.” She does as she’s told, and she thinks her heart rate settles somewhat. “You, are nothing like your Mother.” 

“Jackson.” 

“No, Meredith. Listen to me, you, are nothing like Ellis Grey.” 

“She had an affair.” Meredith laughs harshly, haphazardly wiping the gel from her stomach with a cloth. “My Mother had an affair. She was the other woman and, and so was I!” 

“You didn’t know.” 

“I know I didn’t know, but the point still stands, she was the other woman, and so was I. Today, I found out I have not one, but two, two! Sisters. Molly and Lexie.” Meredith haltingly swings her legs off the examination chair. “Molly’s pregnant and she’s having a child that will be my niece and if I let your friend give me an ultrasound, they’ll be _my_ child’s aunties. I can’t do this Jackson, I don’t know anything about being a Mother, I don’t know how to have a _family_.” 

“Meredith, you, will, _learn_. Family doesn’t begin and end with blood, it’s the people you choose to surround yourself with, the people you turn to when your world is turned upside down… it’s the people you call when you _need help_.” Jackson grips her forearms in a mirror of their earlier stance – it grounds her, and she thinks she might understand what he’s getting at. “ _I_ am your family Mer and I will be your baby’s family, if you decide to go through with this. I’ll be with you every step of the way if you want me to, because that’s what family does.” 

“What if…” She shakes her head. “What if I’m too… too dark and twisty?” 

“Mer…” 

“I don’t want my baby to grow up _like me_.” Meredith confesses in a whisper. 

“Do you want children?” 

Meredith thinks of Cristina, of the absoluteness of her resolve to not have children and finds she can’t reconcile it. “Yes.” 

Jackson nods. “Okay, then do what Ellis Grey could not. Be an incredible Mother _and_ an incredible surgeon.” He smiles, cupping her cheek with one hand. “Be extraordinary.” 

Meredith leans into his hand. “Okay.” She whispers, and Jackson helps her back onto the examination chair. Kepner slips back into the room, her previous brightness subdued – Meredith offers her a soft smile that Kepner returns with an easiness Meredith can’t quite return. “Okay, I’m… ready.” 

The gel is cool, and she finds Kepner is right – because when the heartbeat sounds, it’s all, suddenly, _worth it_. 

“Congratulations Mum and Dad, here’s your baby.” Kepner smiles, turning the monitor and pointing to the small mass of cells in the middle of the screen. “Heartbeat is strong. Do you know the first day of your last menstrual period?” 

“Around the fifth of February.” Meredith answers absently, enraptured by the sight of the baby, _her baby_ on the monitor. “Con–” She swallows. “Conception was around the twentieth.” 

“Well, you look to be around eleven weeks along, which would make your due date around… November twelfth.” 

Meredith makes an aborted reach for the monitor and scrubs a hand across her mouth. “We’ll be second year Residents.” 

Jackson nods, resting his chin on their joined hands. “Yes, we will.” 

“It’s a little too early to determine the sex, but I can print out a picture if you’d like?” Meredith nods, and Kepner looks to Jackson. “One for you too, Dad?” 

Meredith jerks and Jackson blinks, confused. “I’m not the Father?” 

“Oh, _oh_ , I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, I just–” Kepner gestures between the pair, clearly at a loss. 

“He’s my person.” Meredith states. Kepner looks confused by the designation – and Meredith doesn’t have it in her to explain. “I haven’t…” She looks to Jackson. “I should get him a picture, shouldn’t I? For when I tell him, oh, _God,_ how am I going to tell him? I don’t – I don’t even have his phone number?” 

“Kep, can we have three pictures, please?” Jackson requests, and wipes the residual gel from her stomach as he helps her sit up – Kepner hands him the prints, and he holds them up. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. This one here, this is mine, because this is my Godchild and I want a copy of their first photograph.” 

“Your Godchild?” 

“Yes, don’t argue, it’s what I deserve.” Jackson grins, and tucks the first print into his lab coat. “Now, this one. This one goes on the fridge or in a frame on your bedside table or in your wallet because it’s yours and it’s a reminder of why you’re going to be extraordinary, okay?” 

Meredith tucks her shirt back into her jeans and offers him a smile as she takes the print and does as he suggests, tucking it safely into her wallet. “Okay.” 

“And this one… this one you’re gonna keep close. We’ll put it in an envelope and when you tell him, you can give him this because, no matter if he decides to be a part of their life, he’ll still have a copy of their first photograph.” 

“What if he doesn’t?” Meredith asks quietly. “What if he doesn’t want to be a part of their life?” 

“Then he’s an idiot.” Jackson states firmly, “And I’ll kick his ass.” 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**Chapter III** _– Holding Pattern_

* * *

Doc's vet is pretty.

She notices his floppy hair, the kind smile and eyes deep enough to get lost in, even with Addison's voice in her ear unknowingly telling her of mediocre sex and Doc barking a greeting. Meredith flips the mobile shut, and kneels to meet Doc, dropping her gaze as he lopes toward her happily, pushing against her legs with just enough strength to knock her backwards. "Hey, Doc. You look good." She glances upwards. "He looks good?"

"It may just be a virus. But I'd like to wait until we get the blood tests and the x-ray results back before I say anything for sure."

"So, he can go home today? Cause Derek says he can pick him up."

The Vet nods, an easy smile on his lips. "He can go home."

Meredith grins and scratches Doc behind the ears. "You hear that, Doc? You can go home."

"So… you and Derek, uh...you're together?"

"What?" She stands, brushing off her knees. "No! No, he's um… he's married. We're, um… friends?" Meredith winces. "That's, that's probably a stretch, co-workers is probably more accurate. Co-workers… who… who share a dog?"

"So you're single?"

"Single?"

"I ask because I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me."

Meredith blinks – and her brain seems to short circuit. A date? She's single, she can… date? Right? "Out… with you?"

"On a date. Tonight."

"A date... Tonight?"

The vet grimaces and Meredith realises – she can't remember his first name. "And you're repeating everything I say so that you can buy yourself some time and figure out how, a way to let me down easy. It's ok. I get it."

"No. No! I... I…" She winces. "You know, you're very..." Meredith gestures a little wildly with her freehand. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes flick to her still flat stomach – it's too early for her to be showing at a little past eleven weeks, but she has no doubt that she'll pop early into her second trimester. "Pregnant?"

Meredith fights the urge to cover herself. "Eleven and a half weeks. I… I'm not…"

"Dating?"

"Yes."

* * *

Izzie's dating a heart patient.

Meredith doesn't get the attraction – he's handsome, she supposes, despite the hospital gown, and sarcastic in a way that obviously appeals to Izzie, but Meredith just doesn't _get it_. Dumping Alex, who has a future, a career, a _healthy heart_ for a bed-bound, cardio-compromised, transplant _patient_ , doesn't make sense… and yet it seems that's exactly what Izzie's done. So when Bailey asks, if Izzie's crossing a line, Meredith finds herself against her better instincts, doubling down on the _hope_ that Izzie knows better.

"Burke and O'Malley are running." Cristina states as she flops into a seat beside her at the Nurse's station and tosses her a small tub of yogurt. "They're… _friends_."

"Derek wants to be friends." Meredith grimaces, digging a spoon into the tub. "And our hot Vet asked me out this morning. He's McVet."

"I brought Burke coffee and he just… _ignored_ me? O'Malley brings him coffee and he lights up! They have a _handshake_?"

"For the record?" Izzie interrupts, dropping onto the desk between them. "I am on your side today. George sucks."

Cristina hums. "Burke doesn't think so. He's his new best friend. They run."

"Is that where he's been going at four in the morning?" Izzie frowns. "How's Denny doing? Bailey's not caving in on the LVAD thing, is she?"

"About that..." Meredith hedges around a spoonful of yogurt. "I thought Alex was kidding when he said you dumped him for a heart patient."

Izzie avoids her gaze. "Of course not."

"Because Denny's a patient." Meredith pushes. "We can't fall for our patients."

Cristina snickers. "You're falling for a vet."

Meredith chokes on her yogurt. "I turned down McVet! _I'm_ not dating."

"And why is that again?" Cristina asks and Meredith shakes her head.

"That's… that's beside the point. The point I'm trying to make to _Izzie_ ," She looks to the blonde, "is that Bailey's on the warpath about you and Denny and I can only hold her off for so long so just… be careful."

Izzie swallows the last of her fruit and scowls. "I don't need to be careful, because nothing's happening and frankly, Meredith, that you'd believe _Alex,_ over me is offensive."

"Alex has never once lied to me." Meredith states, gesturing with her spoon as she leans back in the chair.

Izzie sneers. "He _cheated_ on me Meredith, he's a liar, it's who he is."

"Alex is an asshole, no one's denying that Izzie." Meredith chucks her empty yogurt tub in the bin, fishing in her pocket for her phone as it vibrates. "But Alex's bad judgement call won't get him fired. Yours? Yours will."

"You of all people cannot speak to me, about bad judgement." Izzie scoffs, her pretty face twisted into something mean. "You spent _months_ sleeping with our _married_ Attending."

Meredith shakes her head and answers her phone. "Can you hang on a minute?" She asks and drops the mobile to her shoulder without waiting for a reply. "You wanna bitch at me? Fine. But I didn't know Derek was married. You know full well that Denny's a patient so the consequences of _my_ bad judgement call? They'll have nothing on yours." She lifts the mobile back up to her ear and turns away from Izzie, leaving her to fume at the Nurse's station. "Sorry, who's calling?"

_"Hi Meredith, it's April. Kepner. April Kepner, sorry Jackson gave me your number, I hope that's okay?"_

Meredith blinks, confused as she pulls the phone from her ear to check the unknown number. "Uh, sure, whatever, why are you calling?"

_"Oh, well, I just wanted to check in with you, see how you're doing?"_

"I'm fine."

 _"That's great! Have you sorted your prenatal vitamins–_ "

Meredith stumbles and ducks into a storage closet, leaning heavily against the door. "Prenatal… vitamins?"

_"Folic acid is the main vitamin that's recommended, I can source you some if you like? Oh! And don't forget that you need to get your contraceptive implant removed, it won't affect the growth or health of your baby but it's still best that you get it removed."_

Kepner's voice washes over her life a wave and Meredith clutches the phone to her ear – it's too much. She knows this, she knows what to say to a pregnant patient, she knows the advice to give and the recommendations to make, but… it's _her_ now. It's _her_ prenatal vitamins, _her_ contraception removal and _her_ ultrasounds. It's a tiny little life that she's created, with a heartbeat that sounds just so _beautiful_ and she's so very overwhelmed by what it all means for _her_.

_"Meredith? Meredith, are you there?"_

"Huh, yeah. Yeah I'm here."

_"Are you okay?"_

"I… I don't know how I'm going to do this." She confesses and there's this _weight_ that's compressing her chest and she's frightened, so very frightened. "I'm… I'm an intern. I live in a glorified frat house and I," Meredith heaves a shuddering sigh, "I didn't _have_ parents, I had a Father that left and a Mother who was too busy winning Harper Avery's to… what if this baby gets all the bad parts of me, all the parts that are dark and twisty and that nobody wants?"

Kepner hums. " _And what if they get all the great parts too? What if they get your talent, your passion for medicine? What if they get your cheekbones or your jawline? What if, because they grow up with a Mother who loves them and a Godfather who adores them, they become everything that's great and good and bad all at once?"_ Kepner asks, and Meredith can almost hear the smile on her lips. " _My Mother used to say that the baby you have is the baby you were destined to have. That it's all a part of His Plan._ "

 _His Plan_ …Meredith wants to scoff. His Plan, had her Mother, bleeding out on their kitchen floor. His Plan had her love, and be loved in return, by a married man. His Plan, had her holding a bomb inside a chest cavity. "Faith and Medicine don't usually mix." Is what she says instead.

Kepner hums. " _He gave me a calling. I get to save lives, every day. My Faith is what keeps me going and I have_ Faith _, that you can do this Meredith Grey."_

"You don't know me."

" _I don't need to_."

* * *

Callie finds her, lying face-down on the freezing tiles of her ensuite floor, completely by accident.

Meredith glances up at her pitifully, a wave of nausea crashing over her. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" She groans, dropping her head back to the floor.

"Sorry, uh, do you mind?" Callie awkwardly gestures to the toilet and Meredith waves carelessly, letting her arm fall limp across her eyes. It's a belated hangover, she decides, another consequence brought from too much tequila and Mark Sloan.

"Izzie hogs the bathroom."

Callie snorts as she drapes a towel across her shoulders and wipes her hands. "I noticed."

Meredith hums, eyeing Callie as she sits back against the door. "George doesn't open his eyes until his third cup of coffee and I… can't cook, like at all. Izzie bakes though, do you like muffins?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Callie asks cautiously.

"Well," Meredith groans as she slowly pulls herself upright, "if you're going to be here more often you should know that Izzie bakes at two in the morning and George sings in the shower and I have–"

"Morning sickness." Callie finishes redundantly, patting her shoulder as she heaves into the toilet bowl.

"Fun fact," Meredith sighs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Not restricted to mornings."

* * *

She used to think Doctors were invincible.

Then Ellis cut her wrists in their kitchen, Richard got a tumour, Cristina almost died from an ectopic pregnancy and a surgical intern from Mercy West fell asleep at the wheel – Meredith's worked longer. Hours past the end of her shift to watch an abdominal aortic aneurysm, the very surgery that Marshall Stone stayed behind to scrub in on – it's frightening, the very real possibility that it could have been _her_ that killed a pregnant mother.

Or that she, could be pregnant woman bleeding out in an O.R.

* * *

"You're hiding out on my service." Callie states warily, eyeing the mess Meredith's created on the table in one of the previously unoccupied conference rooms.

"I'm not hiding." Meredith says, her reply somewhat muffled by the pen-cap hanging from the corner of her mouth.

Callie raises an unimpressed brow and sits, rescuing the charts Meredith's mangled in her attempt to avoid the rest of the Surgical floor's staff. "These," she begins, tapping the charts, "are immaculate, and I know this, because I wrote them. I'm gunning for Chang's job, Meredith, two years, and Chief of Orthopaedic Surgery is mine. So, stop fucking around with my perfectly legible charts."

Meredith seems to curl in on herself and Callie wants nothing more than to fold her into a hug – she's a study in contradictions, Meredith Grey. Nothing like the spoiled little rich girl riding high on Mummy's coattails she'd expected of Ellis Grey's daughter and all the more like a puppy that's spent its formative years being kicked at every opportunity. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Course you don't." She states flippantly, edging closer to knock her knees against Meredith's. "You're an intern, you're not supposed to know what you're doing, not really. That's why I'm here."

Meredith snorts bitterly. "Not quite what I meant."

Callie sighs – Meredith by all counts, has Medicine on somewhat of a lock, it comes to her easy, she's a fast learner and is rather obviously favoured for it but, to put it mildly... Meredith's personal life is a mess. "Have you decided..."

"Whether I'm keeping it?" Callie watches her hand drop to her stomach, it's a soft caress, tender in a way that answers her question. "I... I don't know if I'll be _good_ at this but I... I can't imagine not being..." A _mother_.

Callie offers her a smile. "It's all I've ever wanted."

Meredith shrugs and Callie thinks it takes all her strength to pull her hand away from her stomach. "I never even thought about it."

* * *

She knows something is horribly wrong the second her pager beeps with George's nine-one-one – that the room number is Denny Duquette's only further adds to the growing feeling of dread.

"You paged _Meredith_?"

"He's my patient!" Meredith scowls and thinks her name has never sounded quite so close to a curse. "What the hell is going on?" She asks, and hears her question echoed by Cristina as she pushes through the door.

"She cut his LVAD wires!"

George's exclamation hardly registers. "Are you trying to kill him!" Cristina demands, unmistakably furious in the wake of Izzie's stupidity.

"I'm trying to save him!" Izzie snaps. "All I have to do is confirm that his condition is worse, then Burke can call UNOS and he'll move up on the list and he will get his heart."

"Are you insane!" George yelps. "Did you even take a second to think about the consequences your actions would have on _everybody_ else?"

"About Burke..."

"Of course she didn't, because if she had, she would have realised that this is _bigger_ than her!" Meredith states coldly. "It's Bailey's medical licence, Seattle Grace's transplant centre status, her place in the program, hell, it's our places in the program, because now, we're accessories to at _best_ theft and at worst, manslaughter!"

"Everything will be fine!" Izzie shouts, "When Burke gets here, everything will be fine. He will know what to do."

"About Burke..."

"What!" George shouts.

"He's been shot!"

Izzie falters, and George takes her place at Denny's bedside, pumping his failing heart. "Burke's not coming?"

"Cris, are you..." Cristina's stare is blank and Meredith feels her hands shake – she finds her answer in the tremors – Cristina's frightened, overwhelmed, running on empty and the situation Izzie's just plunged them into isn't helping.

"I'm fine." She's not.

"Burke's not coming?"

"Why didn't I take the internship in San Diego?" George babbles – though his hands remain steady. "None of this would be happening if I was in San Diego."

"Burke's not coming."

Cristina explodes. "No, Izzie. Burke's not coming. I know you're having problems here what with your possible _murder_ charges and your _unbelievably_ stupid idea about stealing a heart, but Burke's kind of busy right now!"

"Denny's gonna die. Denny's gonna die and I killed him."

"You shouldn't have done it!" George yells, and Meredith thinks, if it hadn't been for the shooting, they'd have drawn the attention of half the hospital. "We have to tell someone."

Meredith's hand falls to her stomach – part of her wants to run, to protect her career, her future livelihood above all else, but Izzie, for all her faults, is one of them. She wonders, if, in the coming days, she'll regret this loyalty.

"I'm leaving."

"What?" George yelps.

Cristina shakes her head. "Burke could die, too. Complications arise all the time because of gunshot wounds! You _think_ about that."

Izzie moans pitifully. "Oh, my God."

Cristina scowls. "You know what, none of this would have happened if you were thinking with your head!"

"I did what I thought was best!"

"No Izzie," George shouts, "you didn't think! Of the rules, or our careers, or anything at all!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! No one is leaving. And no one is dying." Meredith shouts.

"Thank you." At once, they look to Denny – pale-faced and sickly, Meredith doesn't hold much hope. "It was kind of getting on my nerves all this dying talk."

Izzie sighs, cupping his face tenderly. "Denny."

"It's okay. I think, uh, maybe we should all listen to Meredith. It looks like she might have a plan."

Izzie looks to her. "You have a plan?"

 _Not a good one_ Meredith thinks. "Just give me a minute."

* * *

"I've known you for a long time. I know your mother and father. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you did not cut those LVAD wires." Chief Webber sighs. "Meredith, I need you to tell me who did it."

"You know... I've been going over this and over this in my mind trying to piece this together." Meredith begins, wringing her hands in her lap. "It was you. You were the reason my parents broke up... and it wasn't just an affair. She really loved you. It wasn't just this cheap thing where she didn't tell you she was married." She shakes her head, uncomfortable with the comparison she's forced upon herself – the cheapness of her relationship with Derek, now the truth is out. "It wasn't _all_ a lie. She left her husband for you... but you stayed with Adele because it was the right thing to do. Maybe safe, but she was the right person for you to be with. And let's face it, my mother?" She scoffs. "Nothing wrong with being safe. Being with the good guy because he's good. And we are talking about forever here. You've never regretted your decision. You've never looked back. Right?"

"No." Richard states, without hesitation as he leans back in his chair. "No, I've never regretted staying with Adele."

Meredith manages a smile despite the heaviness she feels pressing on her chest – she wants to hate him, to blame him for everything from her parent's divorce to her crappy childhood – it's odd to realise, she's more Adele than Ellis, in her own life. "You... made the right choice."

"Some days, that is easier to believe than others." Richard states, and it sounds almost a confession. "I... I've done many things wrong in my life Meredith, but my greatest regret isn't Ellis Grey." 

"I don't…" Meredith shakes her head. "I don't understand." 

He sighs heavily, steepling his hands on his desk. "I wasn't much older than you are now when I met you."

"I remember you." She says softly, wrapping her hands around her stomach.

He seems to stare right through her, his mind clearly elsewhere. "You had this doll, carried it around everywhere."

"Anatomy Jane." 

Richard shifts, coming back to himself. "I _saw_ how neglected you were, Meredith. I watched Ellis drive Thatcher away, and I've spent a lot of time beating myself up about that." He shakes his head. "I wasn't your advocate, I didn't fight for you – I let myself off the hook, told myself that I wasn't your father, that you weren't _my_ responsibility, that I was _right_ not to butt in. You were helpless. You were a baby. A beautiful, smart, funny little girl, and no one stood up for you. I'm so sorry." Richard hangs his head. "I'm so sorry."

It's the first apology she's ever received from anyone involved in the earliest years of her childhood, an apology she never thought she'd receive, let alone deserve. "I got a letter. Every year on my birthday, I'd get a letter with a card and a few hundred dollars tucked between the pages." Meredith shakes her head. "That letter... filled with wishes and best hopes and _love_ was the only acknowledgement I ever got of my birthday. I accept your apology, Richard, I do... but it doesn't fix it."

Richard nods, and Meredith stands to leave. She hesitates in the doorway. "I wasn't going to tell you."

"I know."

"Adele Webber is a better woman than you deserve." Meredith states, and Richard's smile is bitter in its softness.

"I know."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Chapter IV –** _Daddy Issues_

* * *

She invites Jackson to prom. 

He snorts when she asks, but turns up on her doorstep in a tux, nonetheless – the third-floor lobby and Nurse’s station has been transformed into everything she once avoided as a teenager. She finds it oddly charming now, the over-abundance of silver balloons, black streamers and twinkling lights – Jackson easily ignores the _looks_ they receive as he twirls her dramatically on the designated dance floor, all too used to being inadvertently thrust into the spotlight by way of his last name. Laughter bubbles in her chest as they dance, and Meredith thinks she feels freer than she has in weeks, finally comfortable again with Jackson at her side. 

“ _There_ she is.” He murmurs as he brings their clasped hands to his chest. 

Meredith leans into his shoulder. “What?” 

“Thought I’d lost you for a minute there, Mer. You’ve been out of it since I picked you up.” Jackson says softly, resting his chin on her crown. “I’m sorry about Doc.” 

Meredith’s inhale is sharp – Doc’s euthanasian is something of closure and mourning all at once. It’s the end of the chapter in her life that’s stamped with Derek Shepherd and she thinks, the first time she’s allowed herself to feel the loss of everything she believed she’d found in him. “Yeah.” She whispers against his chest. “Yeah, me too.” 

He presses a kiss to her hair. “Reckon I’ve got a shot for Prom King?” He asks, breaking the lingering silence between them. 

She snorts a surprised burst of laughter. “What, you trying to go five for five?” 

Jackson hums and spins her under his arm, tipping her backwards smoothly. “I have a reputation to uphold Grey.” He states seriously, and Meredith huffs a laugh. He pulls her upright again, and the room spins – she groans, nausea swelling low in her gut. “You alright Mama?” 

Meredith covers her mouth and Jackson’s expression clears in realisation. She slips through the crowd – and ducks into an examination room not too far through the double doors that cordon off the lobby. She heaves over the sink, the meagre dinner she could stomach coming right back up – Jackson runs a soothing hand up and down her back, holding back her hair with the other. “Eugh.” She groans, spitting into the sink. “This sucks.” 

“It’ll pass.” Jackson murmurs and knocks their hips together, as she leans over to take a sip from the tap. “You know... while we’re _in_ an examination room...” Meredith wipes her mouth, eying him skeptically. “Have _some_ faith in me.” He pleads, throwing up his hands. “Kep’s given me some tips!” 

Meredith smirks, “I bet she has.” 

Jackson tuts, shucking his suit jacket and releasing his cufflinks – they’re the ones she gifted him for graduation, she realises warmly. “Mind out of the gutter Grey.” 

She rolls her eyes, and gestures to the examination bed. “Give me a hand would you.” 

He shakes his head, but happily complies, lifting her onto the bed with ease. She fumbles with the tie at the back of her neck – Izzie had tied it into an elaborate bow earlier, in between agonising over her own dress choices. Jackson watches her struggle for all of a few minutes, before stepping between her legs to undo it himself. “C’mere.” He requests and she shifts forward – her dress falls, with the opening of the door. 

She understands how it looks – compromising, _intimate_ , despite the inherent innocence of it being _them_ , with her dress pooling at her waist and Jackson between her thighs. Despite that, Meredith, doesn’t expect it, the harsh scoff and the furious gaze. 

“ _Huh_ , you really get around.” 

“Excuse me?” It’s Jackson who responds, turning toward the intruder, his voice dangerously low. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“Derek.” 

“ _Doctor_ Shepherd.” Derek amends harshly, hand still on the door. “No, don’t introduce yourself, I doubt you’ll be around for long.” 

She clutches her dress to her chest, slipping from the table, anger burning in her chest – she’s used to the cruelty of words, he’s got nothing at all on Ellis, but Jackson deserves nothing of his scorn. “What did you just say?” 

“It’s unforgivable.” 

She scoffs. “I don’t remember asking you to forgive me. We’re not together Derek, you have a _wife_. What I do is of no concern to you.” 

Derek scowls, and Meredith realises this is the first moment that she’s found him to be anything but handsome. “Maybe Karev next. I hear he likes to get around.” 

Jackson’s jaw ticks, and Meredith twists as he surges forward, his fist meeting Derek’s chin with an audible _crack_ – he falls heavily, sprawled in the middle of the corridor. 

“Jackson!” She lays a firm hand on his chest and he hisses, unclenching his fist. Meredith glances down at Derek, anger roiling in her gut. It’s unfair – he hasn’t spoken to her outside of a case except to berate her, despite insisting a friendship remain between them. “You don’t get to call me a whore.” She says finally, fixing him with a glare. “When I met you, I thought I had found the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with! I was done. So, all the boys and all the bars and all the obvious daddy issues, who cared? Because I was done.” She shakes her head, “ _You_ left me. _You_ chose Addison. I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how _I_ chose to repair what _you_ broke.” 

Derek stumbles to his feet, rubbing his chin. “This thing with us is finished. It’s over.” 

“It’s been over for months Derek.” Meredith states coolly, “You just didn’t notice.” 

“Meredith?” She turns away from Derek – Callie’s gaze is critical, Derek’s swiftly bruising jaw and their disheveled appearances telling its own story. “Olivia sent me to find you.” Meredith meets her eye – and she knows what’s happened before Callie opens her mouth. “You need to come quickly... it’s Izzie.” 

Her heel catches on the hem of her dress in her haste, and she yelps – Callie adjusts it without a word, though Meredith doesn’t miss the surprise on her pretty features when she reaches for Jackson’s hand. Olivia meets them at Denny’s door wringing her hands, and Meredith thinks she’s never been more thankful for the power of a guilty conscious. 

“I didn't know what to do. I didn't think you guys would want me to go to the Chief but...” 

"Where is she?” Cristina demands. 

"She's in there with him." 

George is first through the door, but it’s Cristina who breaks the heavy silence. “Izzie...” 

“I think it was a stroke. He was prone to blood clots. A clot could have formed on his sutures and travelled to his brain.” Izzie spares them a teary glance, her head pillowed on Denny’s still chest. “It only takes a second.” 

“Iz...” Meredith sighs. 

"Doctor Hahn did a beautiful job on the surgery... but I don't know why I didn't think of blood clots. He died all alone.” She hiccups. “He was alone.” 

George’s searching look is desperate – and Meredith thinks it’s mirrored on her own face. “There was nothing you could have done.” He whispers, stopping short of approaching the bed. 

“I changed my dress three times. I wanted to look nice. I would have been here sooner... but I couldn't figure out which dress to wear.” 

“We need to get her out of here. Nurse Ratchet can only stall for so long.” Cristina murmurs, and Callie nods, subtly prodding Meredith forward. 

"Iz, there are things that they need... they need to move him.” 

"Take him to the morgue.” Izzie states blankly. 

“You can't stay here.” Cristina says softly. “I know you want to.” 

Izzie curls closer around him. “Can you please...please just get out? I want to be alone with Denny.” 

“Izzie,” Alex calls softly – Meredith squeezes his hand as he passes. “that's not Denny.” 

"Shut up.” 

He crouches beside the bed, “Iz that's not Denny. The minute his heart stopped beating, he stopped being Denny. Now, I know you love him, but he also loved you. And a guy that loves you like that, he doesn't want you to do this to yourself. Because it's not Denny. Not anymore.” 

Izzie sobs, “An hour ago he was proposing. And now... and now he's going to the morgue. Isn't that ridiculous? Isn't that the most ridiculous piece of crap you've ever heard?” 

Alex stands, slipping his arms beneath Izzie’s shoulders and knees, and curls her into his chest – Izzie cries breathlessly into his shoulder, and Meredith meets his gaze as he turns to rest his forehead against hers. She thinks it would be a gift, to be loved, as Alex loves Izzie. 

* * *

They sit Shiva. 

It’s what Cristina knows and Meredith’s happy to follow her lead – despite her cooking skills being limited to somewhat disappointing sandwiches. 

“So...” Cristina begins, idly flipping through one of Izzie’s gossip magazines. 

“So?” Meredith asks, grimacing as she eyes the mess she’s made. 

“So, did you do the nasty-nasty with McGorgeous? Because I slept in Izzie’s bed and I _know_ he didn’t sleep on the couch since I heard him leaving your room at four-am.” 

Meredith snorts. “McGorgeous?” 

“He’s no McSteamy,” Cristina states, “but those _eyes_.” 

“No, I did not do the nasty-nasty with Jackson.” 

“Are you sure?” Cristina looks mildly disappointed and Meredith grins, abandoning the butter knife and sandwiches – Cristina was probably right when she suggested they order in. 

“He’s you.” 

Cristina blinks, “He’s me?” 

Meredith nods. “He’s you with a stupid boy penis.” 

Cristina grimaces. “Ew.” 

“He’s my Person. My med-school Person. My still now Person.” Meredith explains, “You’d like him.” 

“Doubt it.” Cristina states, and Meredith thinks that tone is as close to a pout as Cristina will allow herself. 

“He wants Cardio almost as much as you do.” 

She sniffs. “Well, at least he has taste.” 

* * *

They take turns laying on the bathroom tiles with Izzie. 

Alex sits at her head, his fingers threading softly through her hair as he removes the pins holding it in its elaborate style – Izzie doesn’t spare him a glance as he leaves. 

George suggests a change of clothes as he lies down beside her – Izzie snaps a response, and he simply takes her hand, whispering an apology for her loss. 

Cristina stares up at the ceiling and explains the rules of Shiva – Izzie’s expression is blank as she decides agrees. 

Callie brings food and lays hesitantly at her side – Izzie’s eyes are wet, as Callie quietly recites a mourning prayer. 

Meredith curls around Izzie like a cat, “I don’t know what to say.” “ _Neither do I_.” – Izzie’s eyes close as Meredith whispers tales of Europe and med-school, feeling starkly like she’s not doing nearly enough. 

* * *

There are panties on the bulletin board – red lace and satin and Meredith wonders, if in another life, one where she hadn’t fallen into bed with Mark Sloan, they could have been hers. 

“Are those yours?” Cristina asks and Meredith snorts. 

“I’m not the one who was caught stripping this morning.” 

“This is a hospital, people. Serious work happens here. We save lives here.” Bailey glares. “Oh, is something funny? Whose are these?” Bailey eyes them critically. “Yeah, I know it's one of you. It's always one of mine. _Always_. So, tell me. Which one of you left your damn drawers on my surgical floor?” 

“Alex you wanna step up?” Meredith asks, sniggering behind her hand. 

“Not likely.” He snorts. “Sure they’re not yours Mer? I’m not the only one that saw you sneak out with pretty boy.” 

“McGorgeous.” Cristina supplies gleefully. 

Alex frowns. “I’m _not_ calling him that.” 

Bailey interrupts, her scowl almost frightening. “All of you, _scut_ , until I say otherwise.” 

“Oh _c’mon_ ,” Alex complains. 

* * *

Callie makes breakfast and Meredith thinks she might just be a little bit in love with her newest housemate. 

“Do you want to stay forever?” Meredith asks, around a mouthful of roasted cherry tomato. “There’s another room down the hall, I’ll clean it out.” 

Callie laughs. “Eat your eggs, Grey.” 

* * *

Ellis would call it frivolous, the sentiment of it all, Meredith knows as she stares at the sonogram in her wallet – and wonders if she’ll ever manage to mute the caustic voice of her Mother in her head. 

_Fuck it_ , she decides, and slips the sonogram into the breast pocket of her lab coat. 

* * *

“Callie just called my house home.” George scowls, dropping his cafeteria tray carelessly on the table. “Where does she get that?” 

Cristina shushes him, and Meredith raises an eyebrow. “Uh, it’s _my_ house, for one.” 

“It is _not_ her home.” George pouts. 

“I like Callie.” Meredith starts and Cristina shushes them again. “ _What_?” 

“McAss is flirting with a nurse.” 

Alex leans around Meredith, a contemplative expression on his face. “Fifty down on the unclaimed red panties belonging to her.” 

Cristina hums. “I’ll take that action. She strikes me as someone who would prefer nude… maybe light pink.” 

“Can I get in on that? I got… five?” 

Alex snorts. “That's not a bet, that's milk money dude.” 

Meredith laughs, and George scowls. “I left the rest of my cash at home. Which I can call it because I live there, I'm not a visitor.” 

“You’re not on the deed George. Technically, you’re also a visitor.” Meredith states, unimpressed by his attitude. 

“Kick her out.” George demands. 

“No.” She refuses immediately. “Grow up, George. If you don’t want Callie around, tell her yourself. As far as I’m concerned, Callie can stay as long as she wants.” 

“I wouldn’t get too attached to Torres, Mer.” Alex smirks. “From the sounds of it, O’Malley’s about to fuck it all up anyway.” 

* * *

She's showing. 

Meredith eyes herself critically in the mirror, and then turns, pulling her shirt taut behind her back as she stands side-on to the mirror. She lays her palm flat against the slight _swell_ of her stomach – it’s not obviously noticeable, but it feels… heavy, weighted, the proof that there’s a tiny little _life_ growing inside her. 

“Alright.” She murmurs, rubbing her stomach softly. “Your ears haven’t developed yet, but I need to… you’re going to need forgive me for a lot of things baby. I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t ever know if I’ll know what I’m doing… but I will love you. Fiercely, wholly and without question.”

She only hopes that he’ll love them too. 

* * *

“Callie! C’mon, wait!” George begs, ignoring Callie’s strained expression. “Before you start yelling... you were right. I should have told you about how I felt about you moving in... _not_ that you were moving in! It’s just… I'm not good at the whole talking about feelings thing.” 

“You talk to Izzie _just_ fine. Meredith too, but me, George?” Callie shakes her head, inexplicitly angry. High Schoolers with scalpels, she thinks somewhat scathingly – Meredith offers her an apologetic smile over George’s shoulder. It’s nice to think, that she may have her on her side. “You know, Meredith offered me a room. Everything she’s got going on and she still took the time to offer me a room. You… I asked you, _so_ many times if you were okay, George. And you avoided me, every time.” 

“Callie I–” 

“Let's go people! I've been in surgery since two AM. I'm in no mood.” 

“Go, George. It doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters.” He tells her earnestly, stepping backwards down the corridor. “I miss you.” 

“You’re an idiot.” Meredith shakes her head, as he falls into line behind Bailey, Cristina shoving between them seconds later with a frazzled, “Hey! No cutting, no cutting!” 

“I’m not–” 

“Yang, you're late.” Alex complains, shoving at her. 

“Hey, I got here before George!” 

“Not true!” George yelps, as Bailey turns her scrutinizing gaze upon them. 

“Nice of you to join us, Yang.” 

Alex smirks and Cristina fixes him with a glare. “Oh, what are you smiling about? Aren't you supposed to be on the Gynie Brigade?” 

He scowls. “Yeah, whatever.” 

Meredith grimaces, pressing her hand against her stomach – she'd hoped the worst of her morning sickness was past, but she thinks it’s returning with a vengeance. 

“Women troubles?” Cristina asks, gesturing offendedly as Meredith grits her teeth. 

“Huh?” She asks and blinks, when she realises – she hasn’t _told_ Cristina. “Yeah, women troubles.” 

“Maybe you should sit down.” Cristina continues, obliviously unaware. “You look a little white.” 

“I’ll just–” Meredith motions over her shoulder. “Cover for me?” 

Cristina nods, and Meredith slumps on the arm of the chair, bracing her hands on her knees. She focuses on breathing, on the steady pace of each inhale and exhale – it will be different, telling Cristina, realer somehow, than Jackson who still feels so deeply rooted in the Meredith before Seattle. Despite everything, the heartbeat, the whispered promises in her bedroom mirror, the sonogram in her top pocket, her pregnancy is still kind of abstract – a problem for future Meredith to deal with. Telling Cristina will mean that it’s now, that she’ll have to deal with it, that she’ll have to plan and babyproof her life – that Meredith after Boston, is a Mother in Seattle. 

"You alright Doctor Grey?” 

Meredith blinks, as Bailey sets down her chart at the Nurse’s Station. “Yeah, Doctor Bailey, I just need a moment... and to be anywhere else.” Meredith murmurs, watching the incoming collision of Addison and Derek. 

“Bailey, I’m clipping a Basilar Tip Aneurism, who–” 

"Doctor Bailey can I get–” Addison falters. “Oh my... _God_.” 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

"Is that...?” 

“ _McSteamy_.” 

Meredith gags, vomiting on the linoleum. 

"Grey!” 

"No! Mister Sullivan don't light that!” George shouts, too late as the cigarette is lit – Meredith’s hand goes first to her stomach, the heat of it too like the aftermath of a bomb in her hands. 

“Somebody get a fire extinguisher!” 

“Call a code red!” Bailey shouts, springing into action. “Yang, Karev, O’Malley, deal with Grey – the last thing I need is you lot underfoot.” 

Alex fixes her with a put-upon glare as he hooks his hand under her arm. “Throw up on me and I’ll kill you.” Alex warns, taking her weight as he leads them further down the corridor. 

“I’m fine.” Meredith denies, even as she leans on him heavily. 

“Yeah,” Alex scoffs. “You look it.” 

Cristina offers her a cup of water. “Pro tip, if we hide on this side of the reception desk, we’ll be able to watch the explosion.” 

Meredith takes the cup, thankfully taking a sip. “Explosion?” 

“Did you know he applied for a job here?” George asks and Meredith blinks. 

“Oh, please, it’s not like they kept in touch.” Alex scoffs. 

“Who?” 

“McSteamy.” Cristina’s answering grin is Cheshire like in appearance. “Oh, sorry, you were too busy vomiting on your shoes to see him shaking hands with the Chief.” 

Meredith chokes. “What?” 

Cristina hums. “Montgomery-Shepherd looks pissed.” 

“She’s just Montgomery now, Yang.” Alex points out neutrally, eyeing the arguing pair. 

“Ugh,” Cristina rolls her eyes. “ _that’s_ going to take some getting used to.” Nausea swells, and Meredith leans around Cristina to vomit in a trash can. “Holy crap! Are you pregnant?” 

She hears Addison scoff, “Oh great, an adulterous love child.” 

And oh, how Mark Sloan’s eyes _burn_ when she meets them.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the last of my pre-written chapters, I'm mid-way through 5, so hopefully, it will be up in the next two weeks or so. Thanks again for all the lovely comments and please keep leaving them, they're so encouraging!


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**Chapter V –** _Rumour has it_

* * *

It’s the same room she ducked into on Prom night.

She sits on the examination table, lets Bailey take her blood without a fight and watches, as Cristina sets up the ultrasound machine. _It beeps too loudly in the silence_ , Meredith thinks, rubbing her hand back and forth across her stomach as she waits.

“So,” Cristina asks idly, rolling the bottle of gel between her hands to warm it, “who’s the Father?” Meredith glances up at her, and something must tell on her expression, for Cristina fixes her with an unimpressed stare. “Oh, don’t give me that look Mer, I didn’t think I was pregnant when I was pregnant.”

Meredith shakes her head. “No, that’s not… Cristina, I _am._ ”

Cristina sets the bottle down on the counter with an audible _clunk_. “Congratulations.” Cristina says automatically – she processes it visibly, blinking slowly as she reaches again for the gel and transducer. “Are we…” She swallows, “are we excited? Or are we… are we exercising our legal right to choose?”

It’s surprising, the hesitance she sees in Cristina, smart, assured, _strong_ Cristina, who looks to her like she’s expecting one or perhaps both, of them to break under the onslaught. “We’re terrified.” Meredith confesses, catching Cristina’s wrist and twisting their fingers together. It’s the levees breaking beneath floodwaters, the rush of air that leaves her body after the confession that she’s frightened, scared, utterly _terrified_ of what’s to come. “I don’t... I don’t want to be Ellis.” She whispers, and Cristina softens.

“Oh Meredith.” Cristina says, squeezing their joined hands. “You could never be Ellis Grey.”

Meredith hiccups, swiping roughly at her wet cheeks with her free hand. It shouldn’t be so relieving, to be told she’s nothing like her Mother – her Mother, the two-time Harper Avery Award winning Surgeon, her Mother, the narcissist, the trailblazer, the woman who helped pave the way for women surgeons across the world, her Mother, who was never truly a mother at all. “I don’t want to be.” She reaffirms wetly, “please don’t let me be.”

Cristina unlinks their fingers. “I’m going to hug you now.” She states, and Meredith sniffs a laugh at the deadpan declaration. “Don’t get snot on my shoulder.” Cristina demands, and Meredith tucks her head into Cristina’s neck, looping her arms firmly around her waist. “We’re going to be okay.”

Meredith nods into her shoulder. “How am I going to tell Mark?” She whispers, and Cristina releases her as swiftly as one would a hot pan.

“ _Mark Sloan_?” Cristina yelps loudly, and Meredith hushes her.

“Cristina!”

“Your baby daddy is _McSteamy_?” The Cheshire grin forming on Cristina’s lips is familiar, _light_ and Meredith fights a smile of her own. “ _Oh,_ this is glorious. Baby Sloan. You should hyphenate.” She states seriously, gesturing with the transducer. “Baby Sloan-Grey.” Cristina grimaces. “Ew. Baby Grey-Sloan?” Her grin turns positively gleeful as Meredith feels her cheeks warm. “Definitely Grey-Sloan, it’s got a kind of ring to it, don’t ya think?”

“Cristina!”

Cristina cackles as Meredith slumps back against the examination bed, “You have a bump.” She murmurs, trailing her fingers across Meredith’s stomach – it's heartening, Cristina’s steeled marvel, the softness in her eyes as she examines her, the sweet delight Cristina is finding in Meredith’s swelling stomach. It’s dangerous, building homes out of people, but Meredith thinks, there might be no safer place for a part of her heart to belong than inside of Cristina Yang. “This will be cold, yada, yada, yada.” Meredith hisses at the chill, coming back to herself as Cristina rolls her eyes. “I warned you. Ugh, if you even _think_ about following in Karev’s footsteps to the Gynie Squad I will never forgive you.”

Meredith snorts a laugh, “Alex can keep it. You know he wants Plastics?”

“Ridiculous.” Cristina scoffs. “He’ll hate plastics. Mark my words.” She raises an eyebrow, “See what I did there?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Cristina smirks and her expression drops into one of startled wonder, as a thumping, steady heartbeat sounds. “Seriously.” She repeats, almost dumbly as she watches the monitor. “You’re having a baby.”

“I’m having a baby.” Meredith whispers.

“Yang, out.” Bailey demands, holding up a hand in askance to Cristina’s offended expression. “Zip it, I need to speak to Grey. _Alone_.”

“Doctor Bailey,” Meredith winces as Cristina buckles under Bailey’s glare, she shrugs. “I’ll just...”

Bailey waits until the door is shut behind her before she sits on the stool Cristina vacated. It’s oddly disheartening, Bailey’s neutral expression, Meredith decides, feeling all the more like the child who couldn’t stop disappointing her Mother. “You’re about thirteen weeks along.” Meredith nods and Bailey swipes a towel softly across her stomach. “This won’t be easy.”

“I know.”

Bailey sighs. “No, you don’t. Motherhood... is a job just like everything else. You’re an intern, you work eighty hours a week on your feet, and if you think that’s hard, the other eighty-eight will be spent, sleepless, beyond your limits, with your child. You’re going to need to work, Grey, twice as hard as Karev, twice as hard as O’Malley, simply because you were born without the appendage between your legs and when you become a _Mother..._ thrice as hard still won’t be enough.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think you can do it.” Bailey tells her honestly, earnestly, and it’s the first her features have shifted from careful neutrality. “You want this, you want to be the hot-shot surgeon, to outstrip your Mother, to beat her records, to be the very _best_... but your priorities are going to change, the minute that child comes squealing into the world.” Bailey’s face lights up, “Tuck is everything to me. He’s my entire _world_ , Meredith. He is the sun that lights my way, the air that I breathe, he is the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I sleep easy at night, and he is the reason, why I will outstrip everyone in my cohort, why _I_ will succeed beyond everything I dreamt before he was born. Your child will drive you Meredith, to be better, to _do_ better. So yes, maybe you will fall behind your cohort, maybe Yang will outstrip you, or Karev or O’Malley, but you will want it, more than all of them combined.”

* * *

“I’ll have to sell the land.” Derek tells her, as he falls into step beside her.

Meredith blinks, confused. “What?”

“Well, realistically, the dream house is still five years out.” Derek states, smiling charmingly as he leans on the corner of the nurse’s station, “the Draftsman hasn’t even completed the first round of plans and I don’t know about _you_ , but I can’t wait that long. There are some really beautiful apartments in the city that overlook the bay, big windows, natural light, good security.” He leans toward her. “They have a doorman.”

It feels remarkably like she’s racing toward a stop light in a car without brakes. She flips the chart Callie ordered her to memorise shut. “What do you want from me, Derek?”

He takes her hands. “I want this to work between us Meredith.”

Meredith glances at their joined hands, discomfort swelling – just months ago, his touch had set her skin aflame. _How quickly, things change,_ she thinks, stepping out of reach. “This thing between us is finished, it's _over_.” He flinches, and Meredith shakes her head. “Humiliating me in front of Jax wasn’t enough? You want to do it again here? In front of Tyler and Melanie and Linda and Viv?” He opens his mouth, and she waves him onward. “No, go on Derek, don’t stop on their account.”

“This baby changes things Meredith.”

She blanches – _how far as this spread?_

“What happened before doesn’t matter anymore.”

Meredith recoils, anger bubbling furiously in her chest. “You were married! You were charming and wonderful and _married,_ and you didn’t, tell, _me_. It _matters_ Derek.”

“What matters is our baby–”

“ _My_ baby! Mine! Not yours.”

“You don’t get to–”

“Yes, I do!” Meredith shouts, “you’re not the father, Derek!” He reels from her like he’s been slapped, and she knows what’s on his lips before he voices it. “Go on, say it again.” She tells him, and it comes more bitterly than she expects. “And I will have you written up for workplace harassment.”

“I am your superior–”

“Then act like it!” Meredith replies, frustrated. “I’m not your mistress anymore Derek, I’m not your friend, I’m your _student_. I don’t owe you anything. I never did.”

He seems to deflate, the fight leeching out of him. “You were never a mistress to me, Meredith.”

“You turned me into everything I _never_ wanted to be.” She huffs a bitter laugh. “You turned me into Ellis Grey. So, trust me, when I say I mean this in the most respectful way possible. Go fuck yourself Derek Shepherd.”

* * *

Addison doesn’t mean to overhear.

It ricochets around her brain, _I’ll have to sell the land_ , over and over and over again – it feels like a death blow, a last, singular hit, that steals the last of the fight from her.

Seventeen years. Two as friends, four as his girlfriend and eleven as his _wife_ and it comes down to six words, spoken offhandedly in a hospital corridor twenty-five hundred miles from home.

Because Meredith Grey, _Meredith fucking Grey,_ is pregnant.

And Derek is the father.

She wants to rage, to scream and to cry and to demand more, more, more from their divorce settlement, New York, the Hamptons, her trust fund and three quarters of everything that’s his – because how is it _fair_ , that _Meredith fucking Grey_ , can give him the one _fucking_ thing she gave to _Mark fucking Sloan_ instead.

“Torres, give me Grey.” The command doesn’t sit well, too high-handed and frankly, too bitchy for her own taste, even as an Attending with the right to whichever Intern she pleases. It wouldn’t burn so fiercely, she knows, if not for the wary glance exchanged between them.

 _Meredith fucking Grey inspires loyalty wherever she fucking goes,_ Addison thinks and wonders when her inner voice became so unkindly sarcastic. The bone-cracking badass that Seattle Grace’s rumour mill paints Doctor Callie Torres as, should be the least likely of suspects to worship the ground of the adulterous whore that is _Meredith fucking Grey_. _And yet._

“Karev, with Torres.” His hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, and Addison fights the urge to growl. “Now.” She hisses and is rougher than is polite, when she snatches the charts from their hands and swaps them. “Grey, tell me what we’re doing.”

“I–” Grey scrambles to open the chart and it’s more satisfying than it should be.

“I don’t have all day.”

“Maria Greaves, twenty-six. Intact dil–” Grey swallows, and she almost feels remorseful, “dilation and evacuation after miscarriage.”

Addison stops. “This is the worst day of their lives. Yesterday they were planning baby showers and nurseries and pre-schools, and today, they’re planning a funeral. You will be silent, you will mourn with them, you will hold her hand if she wants it, and you will not make today worse for them. Do you understand.”

“Yes, Doctor Montgomery-Shepherd.”

 _This is not a punishment,_ Addison states silently but _oh,_ how it feels awfully flat, in the wake of the _aching_ need for this to be the lesson it's _supposed_ to be. Physical evidence that life isn’t always fair, that it won’t always fall on the side of _Meredith fucking Grey_ , that bad things happen to good people, that parents often bury their children before they’ve had the chance to live. It’s a reminder that Maternal-Fetal medicine is brutal and awful and heart wrenching for every case that it’s glorious and beautiful and wonderful – it's confirmation that Addison Montgomery is a _fucking_ badass too.

They christen their child Jack, and she watches as _Meredith fucking Grey_ , sniffles into her sleeve.

 _No,_ she realises, _it’s just cruel._ Guilt swells – this is not a teaching moment to be proud of, this is castigation, an unfair attack on a woman who’s only as guilty as she is. “How far along are you?” The question tumbles from her lips before she can stop it.

Grey swipes at her eyes, and Addison can see the steel that keeps her spine straight hidden there. “Thirteen weeks.”

Addison’s brain short-circuits. “What? How many?”

Grey’s eyes are dry as she looks at her. “Thirteen.”

“But.” She shakes her head. “I believed you!” The hurt of it echoes – chills, in the looks they receive, burns, beneath _Meredith fucking Grey’s_ hand on her arm. She doesn’t register the tug, the closing of the door of a patient’s room, the hasty closing of blinds – she wrenches her arm free. “Don’t touch me.” She snaps. “You looked me in the eye and lied to me, you looked me in the eye and said, ‘ _not since before I knew he was married,’_ and I _fucking_ believed you.”

“Doctor Montgomery-Shepherd–”

“I suppose they were _your_ panties I pinned to the bulletin board–”

“Addison–”

“Do not say my n–”

“I slept with Mark Sloan!”

And God help her, Addison laughs. And laughs. And laughs some more, when Grey hoists herself up onto the empty patient bed, her legs swinging beneath her.

_Meredith fucking grey had sex with Mark fucking Sloan._

_Meredith Grey, the woman who fucked her husband, slept with Mark Sloan._

_Meredith Grey who is thirteen…_ _weeks… pregnant._

“Holy shit.” Addison feels for the back of the chair beside her. “Derek’s not the Father.”

“I’m sorry you thought he was. I’m sorry _he_ thought he was.”

_I’ll have to sell the land._

Meredith sighs. “None of this is fair to you, and I’m sorry for that.”

“I cheated first.” She tells her softly, and she’s surprised by how truly gentle it is. “We were together. In New York, after Derek left.” It’s the first time she’s confessed it, the truth of what occurred _after_. “But,” She realises, when Meredith’s expression doesn’t change, “you already knew that… and you didn’t tell Derek.”

“No.”

Addison sighs, and slumps into a nearby chair. “I would have, had I been in your position.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“I...” She shakes her head. “I wanted it to work. Or I believed I did. I wanted to believe that I hadn’t thrown my marriage or my life or my best friend away on, on a fling.”

“You loved him.”

“No.” She denies and feels the truth of it all the way deep in her bones. “I thought I should have been, thought I could possibly, one day but... it wasn’t enough, and I wanted Derek.”

“Do...” Meredith’s question is hesitant, painfully so. “Do you think he’ll be a... a good Father?”

Addison chokes down a bitter laugh – it’s absurd, the conversation, their own relationship, the very idea of _Mark_ _Sloan_ becoming a _Father_. She wants to say no – how could he be? _He couldn’t even keep to my bed_ , she thinks, _he’ll be a terrible father_. But... it doesn’t fit – not with the man who swung her so joyfully in the air and went out to buy a Yankees onesie, whose smile could have lit the Upper East Side when he circled the due date in bright red sharpie. “I hope so.”

Her hope settles in Meredith with a visible weight – _will it be enough for him? This wonderful,_ ironic, _gift Meredith’s given him?_ “I was pregnant.”

“ _What?”_

“I, I...” Addison opens and closes her mouth, suddenly at a loss – she hadn’t meant to say it, the words slipping from her lips involuntarily – she doesn’t owe Meredith Grey anything and yet... she thinks perhaps she does. “I was pregnant... in New York. I peed on a stick, saw two little blue lines and told Mark.” The bitter laugh bubbles free. “He, he went out and bought a Yankees onesie and a calendar. He circled the due date and the next day I got an abortion.”

Awfully, understanding flashes on Meredith’s fine features. “You wanted Derek.”

She swipes her cheek – it's wet. “I didn’t want Mark.”

A sob tears from her lips and to her horror, _Meredith fucking Grey,_ folds her into a hug. And she cries. And cries. And cries, until her eyes feel puffy and her throat feels of sandpaper – it’s disconcertingly cathartic, the absolution she finds freely given from the unwitting mistress.

“I’m a terrible person.” She hiccups a laugh, “I destroyed my marriage, my life, my _family_ and now I'm alone.” Addison shakes her head. “I never thought I'd end up alone.”

* * *

"She’s losing it.” Meredith shakes her head as she ties her shoes. “She almost battered and deep fried an eight-million-dollar cheque this morning!”

Cris sighs dreamily. “That kind of money, I'd buy my own hospital and stock it full of sick people. Valvuloplasty's and ruptured aneurisms.”

George shakes his head fondly, tugging the newspaper from beneath Cristina’s sneaker. “You’re a psycho, you know that, right?”

“Okay, I'm not the one with an eight and half _million_ dollar check I won't cash.”

"Stop talking about me.” Izzie demands from the other side of the lockers. “I'm fine. I'm cleaning out my locker and I'm going home. _Mer_ is the one with the problems.”

“ _I’m_ fine.” Meredith protests easily – four pointed gazes drop to her stomach. She rolls her eyes. “ _We’re, fine_.”

“C’mon Mer,” Izzie whines, poking her head around the corner. “Just tell us who the Father is, we won’t tell.”

 _Sure you won’t, Iz._ Meredith slams her locker shut. “Sure.”

George lowers the paper. “Really?”

“Yep.” She grins. “When Izzie banks the cheque.”

Cristina’s cackle almost drowns their disappointed groans.

* * *

"I slept with Mark Sloan.”

Meredith blinks – once, twice, three times – and hits the emergency stop button. The lift jerks and she looks to Callie in askance.

“I broke up with George.” Callie says quickly. “Before I slept with Mark, I mean. I didn’t cheat. I wouldn’t... It’s just... He picked Izzie, Mer. _Again_. And I... I'm not going to be second best, you know? I deserve better. Right?”

Dazed, Meredith nods. “Right.”

“I should tell George, right? I mean, I don’t owe him anything but... I should tell him?”

“You don’t owe him anything.”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

“No, sorry, I just...” Meredith rubs a hand across her bump, fighting laughter. “You slept with _McSteamy_?”

Callie’s answering grin is positively _wicked_. “He should come with his own warning label. Caution–”

“Dirty, dirty _McSteamy_ sex may lead to pregnancy.”

Callie snorts a laugh. “Exact– _what?_ ” Callie gapes. “Oh my god. _Oh my god_. I thought...”

“That it was Derek’s.” It’s not surprising, not really – even Derek had. “Yeah, you and everybody else.”

“Are you gonna tell him? Mark, I mean.”

Meredith releases the emergency stop – _it’s complicated,_ she thinks, folding her arms across her chest. “I... I don’t know if I should.” It feels like a shoddy consolation prize, a kind of cosmic _joke_ – the dirty mistress, fourteen weeks pregnant. _Will he even want you baby,_ she wonders.

“Meredith... he’s the Father... and he… he has a right to know.” Callie murmurs softly. “You don’t have to decide now... but if you do... he’s staying at the Archfield.”

* * *

The appreciative leer he fixes her with when he opens the door is still _gloriously_ sinful.

She shouldn’t still feel like this beneath his gaze – _seen, wanted, beautiful –_ familiar guilt swells and she steels herself with a breath.

“We need to talk.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this fic has been absolutely phenomenal and I'm so, so blessed that you're loving it! I can't thank you all enough!
> 
> I apologise for the lack of Mark in this chapter but Addie... she just wouldn't leave me alone.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**Chapter VI –** _Replacement Baby_

* * *

It’s bafflingly surreal. 

Addie, _painfully_ beautiful on his doorstep. 

Addie, _mercifully_ silent, on the floor beside him. 

Addie, _for the second time_ , informing him, he’s to be a _father_. 

He wonders if he should be angry. 

Angry, that it’ll be just another mark against him in Derek’s eyes. 

Angry, that it’s _Addie_ , of all people, to tell him. 

Angry, that of anything, it’s _hope_ that swells so traitorously in his chest. 

He can’t look at her. “Did you ever love me?” 

“I... I wanted to.” 

He nods, eyes fixed on his forearms, resting on the tops of his knees. “Do you regret it?” 

“Every second.” 

* * *

Nancy Shepherd is just as Mark remembers – cocky, opinionated and _smoking_ hot. 

“Nancy-pants!” 

Her fond smile is a balm to the self-inflicted wounds. “Hey loser.” 

“I wish Derek had told me you were visiting.” Mark gripes as he rests his chin on the top of her head. 

“Oh, like he tells you anything these days?” 

The truth of it stings and he winces as she releases him. “That’s... unlikely to change.” 

“What are you doing here Mark?” Nancy fixes him with an unimpressed glare that’s _all_ Caroline Shepherd. “Are you trying to torture him?” 

“He’s my brother Nancy.” And that truth, stings too. 

“Sleeping with your brother’s wife? Astounding choice.” Nancy shakes her head. “He–” 

“ _Oh_! Nancy!” Addison’s smile, he realises as they embrace, is brighter than he’s seen in... _months_. _God,_ he wonders, _how did it get like this?_ Where, between family dinners and lives saved, had they lost each other so thoroughly. _Not one of us were happy,_ he realises soberly, the pain of it aching keenly. “I missed you! Let me guess, did Mum send you out?” 

“Missed you too Addie.” Nancy’s answering grin is positively cheeky. “Let me guess, he’s trying to ban you from Seattle?” 

Addison rolls her eyes. “Did he also tell you he’s living in a trailer?” 

“Ridiculous,” Mark scoffs, coming back to himself, “He’s always hated camping.” 

Nancy’s sigh is rather put-upon. “He’s ‘ _trying something new_ ’ as if his slutty mid-life crisis intern wasn’t enough.” 

“Meredith.” He corrects, and blinks, when Addison’s voice sounds in stereo – he raises an eyebrow, and she mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _‘fucking loyalty’_ under her breath. 

“You pinned her panties to the bulletin board.” Nancy states, amused. 

Mark whistles, impressed, despite himself as Addie winces. “Not hers, as it turned out.” 

Nancy’s expression turns positively frigid. “Twice? He’s cheated on you twice?” 

Addison sighs. “Nance, it’s... I cheated first.” 

“Oh please, it’s _Mark–_ ” 

“Hey!” 

“–everyone sleeps with Mark, it’s practically a rite of passage.” 

“That’s not–” 

“And then he takes up with the slutty intern–” 

“Her name is _Meredith_.” 

“Mark! I _really_ don’t care what her name is! The fact remains–” 

“We were together!” Addison interjects loudly, grimacing at the eyes that swing towards them. “We were together too, Nancy. Meredith...” She sighs, shaking her head. “Meredith didn’t _know_ that he was married. If anyone’s the injured party here, it’s her.” 

Nancy’s jaw clenches, and Mark recognises the disappointment that settles there. “I... I thought better of you. Of both of you.” 

He nods. “Yeah. So, did we.” 

* * *

Alex Karev won’t make it in Plastics. 

Too enraptured by Addie’s gynie squad, too good with children, too like _him_ in attitude and deed. 

Still, he can’t deny he’s impressed, by Karev’s _balls_ in ignoring his Attending’s orders, to scrub in on Addie’s twin uterus case. 

“Just so we’re clear, you knew when you stepped into that O.R that you were forfeiting your career in Plastics.” 

“Doctor Sloan–” 

“I need my phone back.” 

* * *

He buys a condo. 

It ticks all his requirements – penthouse with three-sixty-degree views, gym and pool amenities, private garden and four parking spaces. 

He resolutely does not think of the nursery, with constellations painted on the ceiling and windows that overlook the bay. 

He resolutely does not think, it’s the only reason he bought it at all. 

* * *

“You, look like you could do with a little cheering up.” 

Torres’s expression reminds him startlingly of Amy – part panic, part withering smile that has him rocking back on his heels. “Nope. Fine, I'm fine. Wonderful, actually, I would say. Yourself? How,” She swallows, her voice cracking, “how are you?” 

Mark blinks as her babbling stops. “I’m down an intern.” 

“Karev finally have enough of picking up your dry cleaning?” 

“Poor bastard must have gotten lost.” He grins, and Torres's expression settles into something unreadable. 

“Bailey’s interns usually hover around the O.R board at this time.” She states, plucking his untouched coffee out of lax fingers – he gapes at the audacity. “If you want an intern that can tell their head from their ass, I’d recommend a brisk jog.” 

“I–” Mark clamps his jaw shut – he’s got more dignity than to jog, _but not to have my coffee stolen out of my damn hands_ he thinks, scathingly amused by her cheek. 

Sure enough, he finds three of five, hovering beneath the O.R board. 

_Oh_. 

She’s glowing. 

_Bright and shiny and carrying my child – it’s any wonder I haven’t dropped right to my damn knees. “_ Have you seen wha–” Mark cuts himself off. Karev’s one of hers, he recalls suddenly, as caught in her orbit as he imagines he’s about to be. “Karev?” 

Her expression is closed, apprehensive, as utterly unlike the tequila flushed openness he received at Joe’s. “He’s camping.” 

He wrinkles his nose. “Disgusting. Perfectly good city right here. With buildings and walls and climate control.” Meredith snorts, and he grins at the dorkiness of the sound. “I think I'll miss Karev when he gets eaten by a bear, he got such a thrill out of tagging along after me.” 

“However will you cope.” 

“Oh, I'm sure I’ll manage,” And he’s sure his grin has fallen into something of a leer. “How would _you_ like to get a thrill out of tagging along after me?” 

The leggy blonde he can’t recall the name of gapes. “Doctor Bailey makes the assignments.” 

“Doctor Bailey says it’s fine.” Mark offers the pint-sized Doctor a blinding smile, and grimaces, as he's rewarded with an unimpressed glare. “ _Go.”_

"You’re terrifying.” He informs her, and privately thinks Yang agrees, as her expression settles into something like caution. “Right, Grey, with me.” 

Meredith laughs, after he’s hustled her to the elevator and the doors have shut behind them. “You’re scared of Bailey.” 

“Who isn’t.” Mark replies, affecting a shudder as he glances down at her – she really is tiny, he realises, unable to look away from the swell of her stomach. 

“Eyes up.” She tells him, a single delicate finger inches from his nose. He grins. “Stop it, that face doesn’t work on me.” 

“What face?” 

“The McSteamy face.” 

“ _Oh,”_ Mark pushes the emergency stop as he turns, and the elevator jolts as he leans toward her. “I beg to differ.” He murmurs, pleased at the hitch in her breath, _mesmerised_ by the flush colouring her cheeks and spreading down the planes of her neck. 

“I’m immune.” She tells him, and he grins, utterly amused by the contrariness of Meredith Grey. 

He wants to touch her, he realises, to dip his fingers back between her thighs, to have her, wanting, gasping, begging for more, to flick paint in her hair as they paint nursery walls, to argue over names and – he hits the emergency stop, putting an elevators’ worth of space between them as it groans to movement. 

Mark swallows, unbalanced. 

Meredith’s hand settles on her stomach as she catches her breath, and for the life of him, he can’t look away. 

He tries, for levity. “You know, if I had gone off into the woods, I would have invited you to keep me warm.” 

The grin that settles on her lips is nothing short of cheeky. “I’m sure Alex’s bear has room enough for two.” 

He snorts a laugh and tries to forget, the heat of her against the elevator wall. 

* * *

She stumbles over pronouns. 

Donna, he stresses, when she trips over Daniel, _she,_ he corrects, when she fumbles past he – Mark tries not to be disappointed by those first interactions, by the lack of immediate understanding, by the lack of ease. Not everyone is cut out for plastics, he knows, but this… it’s basic. It _should be_ basic, easy, simple to switch and not so… concrete. 

“What’s our next step?” 

“Continue the primary incision in the ventral side of the shaft.” She answers quickly, the medicine, coming as it always does for their kind of people, easily. “I… I am surprised that you agreed to do the surgery.” 

And she really is, he realises. Confused, that Donna would choose to fight cancer as a woman, then be cured as a man, confused, that he would agree to it, that he would support Donna’s choice. “People don't come to me to fix what's on the outside, they come to me to fix what's on the inside. And if that means… giving someone a straighter nose, or bigger breasts, or a _vaginoplasty_ … if it helps that person live… I don’t run. I don’t hide.” 

Her eyes crinkle, and he knows; she’s smiling behind her mask. “I get it.” 

And he really thinks she does. 

* * *

Mark tries not to be annoyed, when Karev is foisted back onto his service – with a bonus cantankerous blonde for his troubles. 

“There you are! What, did you go all the way to New York for my pastrami?” 

Karev fixes him with a smile that’s as fake as it is bright. “Extra spicy, extra lettuce, light on mayo.” 

Mark drops it on the counter beside him and catches Addie’s unimpressed glare – it’s familiar, and he wonders idly, if Caroline sat the five daughters down for a masterclass on glaring. 

“Mark, _what_ are you doing?” 

“Lunch.” He answers brightly, tossing the second bag in Addie’s direction. “Here, got you a pickle. And a cheese steak.” 

Her glare falters, and Mark’s grin widens – it’s not friendship, not yet, but he thinks… he thinks they might just be okay. “Seattle Grace is a teaching hospital, and part of _your_ job, is to teach.” She sits behind the counter. “Your interns aren’t your slaves.” 

He glances between them – Karev, stoic and unphased, and… _blondie_ , whose sneer seems to be fixed permanently on her immaculate bone structure. “Go, eat. Leave me in peace, children.” 

“Mark!” 

“Give it a rest Addie, I’ll teach them after lunch.” Mark replies, rubbing his side. “You have bony elbows.” 

Addie scoffs as she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Have you spoken to–” 

“Not about–” 

“You should.” 

He glances at her and feels all the more like she’s stripped him bare. “I bought a condo.” 

“You’re… you’re really serious about this.” 

“It’s my second chance.” 

Addie sighs. “Mark…” 

He hears the reproach and shakes his head as he drops his half-eaten pastrami into the bin. “No, no I don’t want to talk about this with you.” 

“Mark–” 

“I’ve got interns to teach.” 

* * *

Seattle Grace feels increasingly small. 

It’s his own fault really – he walks on eggshells around Derek, can’t look Addie in the eye, and avoids Meredith Grey like the plague. 

Except… she’s everywhere. 

She’s in Karev, who’s still stubbornly convinced he belongs on his service, she’s in Torres, who steals his coffee and makes thinly veiled comments that makes him think she knows more than she’s willing to admit. She’s in Yang, who’s scattered and brilliant and who’s eyes follow him whenever he enters a room – she’s in Bailey, who keeps her firmly under her wing and off his service. 

Seattle Grace is Meredith Grey’s, and Mark’s not certain he fits. 

“Did Doctor Bailey see the chest x-ray?” 

Meredith shakes her head. “No, but with the low Pulse OX and the decreased breath sounds, she suspects Janelle will need a chest tube.” 

Karev scowls and Mark wonders if this will convince him, _have you had enough yet?_ “I'm dabbing out freaking glass splinters, and _she_ gets to do a chest tube?” 

“You signed on for this.” 

“This is not a good day for me.” Janelle murmurs, dazed. “This is not a good day for me at all.” 

Addie offers the girl a warm smile. “The baby looks good, Janelle. Heartbeat is strong. Do you want to call the father?” 

“You could, but that would require me speaking to him, which I no longer do. Hearing he's a daddy from some random doctor might not go over so well.” 

Addie’s eyes scorch as she exchanges a glance with Meredith. “So the Father doesn’t know?” 

“No, and he’s never going to.” 

Karev scoffs, “Yeah, that’s going around.” 

“ _Alex_.” Meredith’s horrified hiss feels like the opening of an airlock, like freefall and no hope of a safe landing – but Karev’s words are both a physical blow and an expected stance… _what kid would want me for a Father?_

“You know, I can suture, I’ve done it before.” 

Mark’s eyes drop to his hands – he’s skipped a stitch. The stainless steel is frigid between his fingers and the hollowness that’s spreading through his chest burns with an ache that feels all too familiar – _how many children will I lose?_ Karev’s blank expression suddenly seems mocking. “When you can do a Z-Plasty and barely see the scar, give me a call. Until then? Do as I fucking say, and dab and clean, and dab and clean.” 

“Welcome to plastics, Karev.” He hears her smirk, hears the scorn that’s painted there, and can’t find it within him to care. “Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” 

_No_. 

“Uh–” Bailey seems to falter as she interrupts, the tension in the trauma bay palpable. “We’re not doing a chest tube, Grey.” 

Addison’s back straightens and Mark stops. “What’s going on?” 

“Ms Duco,” Bailey offers the girl a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, but you have a shard of glass in your heart.” 

* * *

It’s a bad decision. 

He’s good at those, he knows, good, at bad choices, good, at being the wrong decision, good, at being a bad _person._

“Hey Joe? I’ll take the bottle.” 

“Keys.” 

Mark huffs and drops his keychain into Joe’s waiting hand. 

“Taxi’s waiting for you out front, Doctor Sloan, you have a good night.” 

_A good night_ , he thinks, scoffing as he takes a swig – tequila feels like a punishment, as much as warms him through. 

“Where to, Sir?” 

_New York._

_Home._

_Anywhere._

“Six-thirteen Harper Lane.” 

It’s the kind of house he would have killed to grow up in – big and open and wonderful and he _aches_ for it, for the big rooms and the family to fill it, for dinners and birthdays and Christmases and arguments over the TV remote. 

Mark misses the doorframe when he knocks, the pane glass in the door rattling when he clips it with the bottle. 

He sees her coming – she looks different out of scrubs, smaller, younger, less put together and more approachable all at once. 

“Mark?” 

He hiccups. "Is it mine?” 

“You’re drunk.” 

“Addie–” 

She pulls the door shut. “You need to go.” 

Mark shakes his head, and slips his foot between the door and the jam. “Addie she, she told me...” 

“Told you–” Her pretty face blanks, and he thinks he’s never seen her so cool. “She had no right.” 

“Please.” He shuffles back, sets the bottle on the swinging chair, turns back to her. “ _Please,_ Meredith. I need to–” 

Meredith looks small again, tiny, despite the swell of her belly and the rigid straightness of her spine. She sighs – it's a curious mix of defeat and acceptance that settles in her shoulders, and Mark waits for the blow. “You don’t need to do anything.” 

“I want–” 

_To do the right thing._

_To be the better man._

_To be the Father our kid deserves._

_I want... everything._

“You want Addie, and New York, and the baby you bought a Yankies onesie for.” The smile she gives him is sad, “You don’t want the Dirty Mistress’s replacement baby, Mark. And this kid? They... they don’t deserve to come second best to a ghost.” 

“She would have been in the third trimester.” Mark murmurs, hating himself all the more when he realises his face is wet. He hates the understanding that settles on her brow, hates the circumstances, the rawness of loss and the awfulness of hope. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." 

He hears her sigh, and feels a hand on his wrist. “C'mon, inside.” 

The couch is soft and the house as warm as he imagined it to be, medical texts piled on the coffee table and the Christmas tree still lit with fairy lights in the corner. She catches him looking and he wonders if it’s just the lights that make her cheeks so pink. “I know it’s May but Izzie... she loves Christmas and I... I didn’t have the heart to take it down.” She places a blanket in his palms, “the downstairs bathroom is through there and there’s a couple of Tylenol next to the water on the coffee table.” 

“Thank you.” 

Meredith nods. 

“Meredith?” Mark calls, when she’s half-way up the stairs. 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her smile is still sad. “Yeah... Me too.” 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how well i've captured Mark's voice, but I hope you enjoy this! Thank you again, for the kind words and kudos and comments, you're all so wonderful and I am so thankful for the continued support!

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
